


In the morning I'll be with you (but it will be a different kind)

by MG12CSI16



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, But can be read as friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Post Coda, Semi AU, Slight Bethyl, references and spoilers for past episodes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-02 22:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2828948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MG12CSI16/pseuds/MG12CSI16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To him it was the end of all the good things they had built. To her it was the chance to start again with the hope of finding something better, if only she can get him to see it that way. </p>
<p>Or, the one where Daryl can't seem to cope and Beth does her best to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the morning I'll be with you (but it will be a different kind)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this shortly after Coda but never actually posted it because it’s my first TWD fic and I got nervous. It’s really just a bunch of word vomit I ended up writing down because that was the worst MSF of any show I’ve ever seen and because Daryl is now super vulnerable and I have a thing for vulnerable Daryl. Also, I’m sure this idea has been done quite a few times since Coda aired but I’m pretty new to the fandom and haven’t gotten to read many fics at all so I’m sorry if anything seems familiar.

“If you’re gonna keep followin’ me than keep it down,” he snaps behind him, catching a glimpse of her cornflower colored irises as she grimaces against the sound of a twig snapping beneath her feet.

She looks back at him apologetically but Daryl’s attention is once again ahead of him, muscles rigid as he listens for the telltale shuffle of the deer he’s been after for the past forty minutes. He can still hear her behind him, slightly out of breath but trying desperately to quiet her steps as she trails behind him.

For the most part he doesn’t mind that she’s there, has learned to accept her presence in a way that doesn’t crawl under skin the way it used to. He remember other times though, ones that seem so long ago now, when the thought of her stumbling behind him and scaring whatever animal he’d been tracking, used to make the anger burn hot in his veins before he’d turn to her with a fiery look in his eyes that always made her turn away.

Now though, the attempt is wasted.

“Are you sure you haven’t lost it?” she asks, voice a soft whisper with breath that ghosts across the skin of his bare arm as she comes up beside him.

He answers her with an annoyed huff, one he knows will paint a smile across her face because she’s asked the question on purpose in an attempt to rile him up.

Daryl decides not to give her the satisfaction this time.

She opens her mouth to speak again but the sound of the brush rustling up ahead of them has Daryl pressing a firm hand over her mouth to silence her, ignoring the way her mouth twists into a frown beneath his skin. He gives her a pointed look before taking his hand away.

He knows she probably doesn’t understand the series of hand gestures he’s just given her but thankfully she remembers enough of their previous outings to step aside quietly as Daryl slinks forward, peering through a break in the trees to see the buck he’s been after.

He lets out a low hum of approval as he lines his bow up, ready to hear the satisfying sound of his bolt penetrating flesh but almost as soon as he fires he lets out a curse, unsurprised when the bolt sails into the trunk of the tree just next to the buck, squeezes his eyes shut so he doesn’t have to look at the failure.

And when he finally opens them he’s unsurprised to find both the deer and Beth gone.

* * *

Daryl keeps his head down as he shuffles back into camp, refusing to meet Rick’s eyes when he hands over nothing but a few small rabbits before stalking off to be on his own and refusing to see the look of disappointment undoubtedly etched on the leaders face. Their camp isn’t much of anything, some tents they found after raiding a sporting goods store that had somehow gone mostly untouched set up in a semi-circle around a fire they keep barely lit once evening settles in.

He yanks back the door to his own tent and stumbles in, throws his crossbow to the side and collapses on the ripped up sleeping bag that may as well not exist before throwing his arm over his face and wishing he could drown out the sounds of everyone else in the camp.

“Maybe you should eat something; you seem like the kind of guy who gets grumpy when he’s hungry.”

If he wasn’t so used to the sound of her voice Daryl is almost sure he would have jumped as soon as her words broke through the barrier of his mind, maybe even pointed his bow her way, but instead he merely peeks out from beneath his arm to see her sitting cross legged beside him.

For some reason her presence does little for him, only succeeds in sending a prickly of annoyance up his spine as he looks away from her.

“Don’t you got someone else you can go bother?” he asks, making sure to keep his tone light so he doesn’t actually scare her away because if she was to leave him alone right now Daryl isn’t sure what he’d do.

He looks over to see her shrug, glancing through the opening in the tent and no doubt thinking of Maggie and Glenn and probably Lil Asskicker too before she looks back at him and he immediately feels the slightest bit guilty for the comment.

“’M sorry,” he ends up mumbling, scooting over a bit so she can lie down beside him and instantly relaxing when the warm skin of her arm skims against his and for a fraction of a second he forgets and everything is alright.

* * *

_She thinks he can’t hear the sounds of her crying from across the camp but if Daryl is being honest the sound of her sobs is the only thing keeping him conscious right now._

_It’s Beth’s turn to keep watch, huddled on the other side of their camp with her knife in her lap, knees pulled to her chest and her head turned to the side so the only thing he can see is the faint shine of tears on her cheeks illuminated by the fire._

_Her bony shoulders are shaking, breathless hiccups mingling with the soft crackling of the fire as Daryl rolls over again, tries to readjust the backpack he’s using as a pillow only to realize the effort was fruitless. Instead he sits up, tired and still a little bit pissed, before pulling himself to his feet and marching across to where Beth is sitting, hunching farther away as he comes closer._

_She doesn’t look at him when he finally sits down beside her, crossbow in his lap and eyes hooded with exhaustion, and part of him is grateful because he’s not sure what he would do if those sad doe eyes looked his way right now.  Ever since his confession about not being able to help Hershel he feels uneasy around her despite the moonshine driven conversation that had followed, wonders if she still feels the same way now that she’s openly weeping over her dead father and refuses to look at him._

_In the end Daryl decides he doesn’t want to know._

* * *

_Somehow, lying in the coffin is a lot more comfortable than he expects it to be, especially when he closes his eyes to the sweet sound of Beth’s voice and her fingers moving across the piano, drowning out the silence with the sound of honey and old lullabies._

_It’s only days since the night next to the fire and it’s clear to Daryl that Beth is doing her best to avoid a conversation about it (not that he’s exactly pushing for one) but thankfully she seems comfortable enough around him that Daryl is able to push those earlier feelings of uneasiness away, even if just for a second._

_Because while Beth may not see the problem with him it seems to be the only thing Daryl can think of nowadays and when he leans back and listens to her sing, remembers how pure and sweet and good (in a world that is so fucking bad) she is well, then he can’t help but wonder just how long she’ll last like that when she’s stuck with him._

_He takes his chance as Beth’s voice begins to fade away, clears his throat and keeps his eyes glued to the ceiling as he speaks just loud of enough for Beth to hear but quiet enough that he’s sure she has to strain to do so._

_“Ya know, I wouldn’t blame ya if you wanted to get away from me.”_

_Daryl hears the piano bench creak as Beth turns to look at him, feels the fire from her gaze burn into the side of his face as he curses himself over and over for voicing his thoughts out loud when he should have damn well kept his mouth shut._

_He thinks her silence may kill him._

_And then finally he hears, “that’s the stupidest thing I ever heard,” and when he flicks his eyes in her direction he sees her with her mouth set in a frown, jaw clenched tight against his words and he knows in that moment just how stupid he really is._

_Beth obviously seems to agree with his silent realization because she goes on, voice so serious Daryl almost doesn’t believe it’s coming from her._

_“I know you tried Daryl; everyone knows you tried and I don’t blame you for one second for any of it so please stop blaming yourself, please.”_

_This time he looks up and meets her cerulean gaze, sees the desperation in them and feels the slightest bit nauseous as he rolls on his side and ends up acknowledging her pleading with a small nod, desperate to end what he started._

_Then,_

_“Why don’t you play another one huh?”_

_He falls asleep to the sound of her singing._

* * *

_He tells her to run out the back, doesn’t even check to see if she has her knife or if her ankle can even carry her fast enough for it to matter._

_By the time he’s running out behind her she’s gone, and the reflection of those taillights is mocking him. And it doesn’t matter how fast or how long he runs because he’ll never catch her and when he finally crumples to the ground in the middle of that road the only thing he can see is red._

_He thinks he might be blinded._

* * *

_He sees her for the first time and he can’t breathe. She’s cut and bruised and her creamy skin is marked in ways that make him want to kill. Daryl holds his breath as he she finally walks towards him and it’s like all the pieces have finally clicked into place because she’s here and she’s alive and he doesn’t have to file her away as a dead girl he couldn’t save._

_Then dawn demands Noah to stay and suddenly Beth is moving, too far away for him to grab and it’s not until that shot is ringing through the halls that he’s even aware of what’s happening._

_He pulls his own trigger without even thinking._

* * *

_This time everything is red. Her hair and the floor and the blood that is spattered on Rick’s face, all of it mocking him and now he’s blinded by tears instead of rage as he leans down to scoop her into his arms._

_No breath, no movement. Just limp and fragile in his arms and he wonders how he’s going to make it down the stairs._

_Somehow he does._

* * *

_He doesn’t look up until he hears Maggie. On the ground with her face morphed into a look that isn’t unlike the others he’s seen plastered on so many faces before._

_(Because you couldn’t save them either)_

_And then she screams and screams and Daryl thinks he might be dreaming._

* * *

_They bury her and it’s not a dream._

_None of it’s a dream and for the first time in a long time Daryl is scared._

_(Absolutely fucking terrified)._

* * *

“You should be nicer to them,” she whispers into his shoulder one night after he’s woken up from  a particularly vivid dream, clinging to him like she’s the only thing tethering him to the Earth right now.

Her words are quiet but Daryl hears them as if she’s just screamed, knows she’s just trying to help but even the thought of Rick or Carol or even fucking Carl looking at him with those sad eyes, trying to understand something that even Daryl himself can’t seem to grasp is enough to rile him up.

“Don’t need their help,” he spits back at her. And he wishes she would stop touching him because it only makes things harder and suddenly all he tastes is moonshine, remembers screaming and crying and the hug she wrapped him in and he wishes it would all just go away.

But Beth of course doesn’t listen.

“What do you need then?”

He doesn’t look at her then, can’t make himself turn around and face her because right now she’s nothing more than a dead girl he couldn’t save (that’s what they all are in the end, isn’t it?) and so he settles for leaning back against her and pretending the feel of her fingers on his skin doesn’t burn like the cigarettes his dad used to press against his flesh as a boy.

“You.”

* * *

“Gonna get yourself killed you know?”

“What do you know about it?”

“You keep looking for me and it’s gonna get you killed.”

“And that’d be a damn shame, huh?”

“Yeah,” she says angrily, “it would.”

Daryl doesn’t even have to look to know she’s not there.

* * *

“I’m not coming back anymore.”

Her voice nearly startles him but he brushes it off with an indecipherable grunt, keeps his nose pointed down the scope of the shot gun. He doesn’t look at her.

He can’t anymore.

“You’ll be alright ya know? Even if I’m not here you’ll be alright…cause it wasn’t your fault.”

Of all the things she's said over the past few weeks _t_ _hat_ catches his attention and suddenly the gun is on the ground and he’s spinning on his heels to face her, right in her face so he can smell the faint scent of the soap she used in the prison and feel the breath on his cheek.

The damn bursts and he's powerless to stop it.

“The hell it ain’t my fault. _I_ sent you out there on your own, _I_ couldn’t catch up with that car and I watched you drive away instead. And fuck if it wasn’t enough for me to find you just to have you walk right back out the fucking door and get shot doing something so damn foolish while I stood there and did _nothing_.”

Daryl tries to draw in a ragged breath but his chest is too tight and Beth is so close and _he can’t breathe._

_(He can’t breathe and Beth is dead.)_

_(Dead and limp in his arms.)_

_(Dead and buried in the ground somewhere under that damn willow rotting away.)_

_(Dead and not coming back.)_

_(Dead because he couldn’t save her.)_

* * *

When he’s calmed down just enough that he can look at her through tear soaked lashes he finds Beth’s face twisted and red from crying and Daryl almost laughs because he probably looks like this too.

She’s still pressed against him somehow, not once stepping away when he was screaming and flailing in front of her and for that he’s thankful because the touch of her skin keeps him grounded long enough for him to finish catching his breath.

“You know none of that stuff matters,” she finally says and her hand reaches his face, settles against his cheek softly like his mother’s used to when she was alive and happy and before his world began to fall apart. “It may have happened and it may have given us this shitty outcome but in the end _none_ of it matters because I met you Daryl and honestly meeting you was one of the greatest things that have ever happened to me.”

He snorts loudly because he doesn’t believe her. Hasn’t really believed anything anyone’s said to him in a long time because in the end everyone lies at some point. But then he feels her thumb moving gently across his cheek, soft and warm, and as the heaviness begins to lift itself from his chest he thinks maybe this is what it feels like to actually believe someone. To feel it with his body and soul and to know whatever they’re saying, whatever they’re trying so hard to convey is as real as anything Daryl’s ever heard before.

(He thinks he might finally get it).

“’M sorry,” he whimpers into her hair, hating himself for sounding so damn needy but at the same time not caring because he needs to say this. Needs the weight off of his shoulders like he needs air to breathe. “’M sorry I couldn’t save you.”

Beth smiles then, that bright and bubbly curl of her lips that's able to light up whatever darkness they're stranded in, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“It’s alright Daryl. I promise it’s alright.”

And then she’s gone; an empty spot in front of him as he stares at the expanse of forest around him, gun still on the ground a few feet away and Daryl’s not sure how long he stands there but once he gains control of his limbs once more he wordlessly walks over and picks it up, slings it over his shoulder and gives a last glance behind him before a voice nearly makes him jump.

“Daryl?”

His head snaps around and he sees Rick standing just a little ways behind him , a look of worry that he tries to hide etched onto his face.

“We’re moving on in about an hour," he says, "Are you alright?”

It takes a second to process the question but in the end Daryl answers with a slow nod before turning his back on the trees and stalking quietly towards Rick.

_Yeah,_ he thinks, _I’m alright._


End file.
